


Lessons

by lunakoroleva



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Zemyx - Freeform, dating a microbiologist is Hard (TM), grad school sucks I would not go back 2/10, mom told you not to date musicians but biologists...biologists are Worse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18494197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunakoroleva/pseuds/lunakoroleva
Summary: Ienzo thought he would be the one teaching at this stage of his career. As it turns out, he has a lot of lessons to learn -- starting with music lessons from the university symphony's handsome harpist.





	Lessons

There were exactly twenty-six tiles between the front door and the doors leading to the auditorium. He’d paced along their path three times to count and confirm the number.

There were thirteen minutes between now and the opening drumbeats of Mars, which was one of only two movements of The Planets Ienzo had managed to listen to on the walk to the symphony hall. He’d thought he’d been cutting it close, but it seemed Even and the rest of the crew were cutting it even closer. Ienzo had not been pleased to find himself without a familiar face when he’d walked in, and he was even less pleased as the number of concertgoers loitering in the lobby dwindled to only a handful of restless-looking undergraduates impatiently browsing their phones, waiting for some date or friend to join them. 

Ienzo had never been to hear the symphony before. Not the university orchestra, anyway, and certainly not in the last eight years. Not since he’d first arrived at college, eager to leave his parents at the loading dock outside of his first year dorm and brimming with the excitement of scientific opportunity. 

Not much had changed since then, he mused. Back then, he was impatient. Now he was older, busier, and arguably even more impatient. He had a reason to be impatient, now. He had a reason to avoid getting bullied into attending social events, and he had a reason to get miffed at others’ lack of punctuality. He could feel his blood pressure rise a little at the thought. 

Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six. Pivot. Fourth pass.

He was checking and rechecking the tiles like he expected the number to suddenly change on him, but of course he didn’t actually expect it to. He just needed something to keep his body busy while he mulled over all the prep he had to do tonight to set up for tomorrow’s experiments. Not to mention the lesson plan he desperately needed to write in advance of class on Wednesday. 

He sighed and checked his phone for the time again. Nine minutes until the doors closed and the concert began. Nine minutes and one message left on read: We’re on our way! See you in 5! 

That had been ten minutes ago. Even had lied, but what else was new? 

He sighed again, louder this time, and unlocked his phone to type a quick message out to Even. _Where the hell ar— ___

____

__

“There he is!” The call seemed too loud, disrupting the polite but awkward silence the current occupants of the lobby shared. Several heads glanced up from their phones, confused, before burying themselves back into social media again. 

Ienzo caught himself staring in their direction, mortified, before schooling his face into a picture of weary apathy to hide his horror. “Took you long enough.”

“Well, you know.” Even said with a shrug, his voice still uncomfortably loud. “We ran into some friends.” He was peeling off layers as he speed-walked across the twenty-six tiles from the door, Dilan and Aeleus close behind. 

Ienzo hadn’t even bothered removing his winter gear during his wait. He’d figured it would make him look like he just arrived to any casual observer, and if his lab mates failed to show, he’d already be dressed for the walk back home. 

Back to the lab, he corrected himself. Same difference. 

Ienzo shrugged off his own coat as he joined his lab mates as they entered the auditorium. There were few spaces that offered so many seats next to each other this close to the start of the performance, so the group had to split up. Ienzo found himself seated with Aeleus in a pair of seats in the far left edge of the first row, uncomfortably close to the stage and the empty chairs placed upon it. He could already feel the beginning of a crick in his neck from the uncomfortable angle he’d have to hold his head for all seven movements. 

Aeleus was quiet and stony, as usual. For all his surly demeanor, he’d become one of Ienzo’s favorite coworkers that he’d met over the last few years. He was quiet, sure, but so was Ienzo. They both shared the tendency to talk only when it was important and the desire to speak slowly and choose their words carefully. He was a bit of a jock for Ienzo’s tastes, but he was a blissfully quiet one.

Aeleus had become something of a friend since Ienzo had joined the Ansem lab the year before. The long hours in the lab—even silent ones, as they often were — had brought them close enough that Ienzo had found he’d learned to read Aeleus’s mood from the speed of his typing or how often he drifted to his desk to scribble in his lab notebook. Ienzo figured Aeleus probably knew his own tells, though he couldn’t imagine what they might be. 

He figured Aeleus had known when his cat had died in the fall, when he and his roommate had gotten in a fight and he’d had to move out unexpectedly. He’d probably seen Ienzo’s increasing hours in the lab and known them for what they were: an empty house to return to and an even emptier social life.

But Aeleus would never say anything, and that was the real meat of why they got along so well.

Aeleus was flipping through the printed show bill he’d been handed at the door with a rhythm and speed that could not be the result of actually reading it. Ienzo, who had carefully avoided the student workers stationed at the door to distribute the pamphlets, leaned over take a peek. Rows and rows of names organized by instrument, apparently. Thrilling. 

“All undergrads?” He asked, if only to pass the few remaining moments before the members of the symphony took their seats.

Aeleus didn’t look up from the page. “No, it’s the university symphony. Anyone in the university can audition.”

“Not just music majors?”

That did manage to pull Aeleus’ attention. “Of course not. Lea plays.”

Lea, the doctoral candidate from the next lab over. Spiky red hair, tattoos, and ripped jeans that wouldn’t pass for appropriate lab wear in the Ansem lab. There was a certain level of grunge that passed as acceptable in the department, but the Ansem lab tended to require a stricter dress code than most. Lea was a prime example of the difference.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot he played music.”

Aeleus gave him a questioning look. “Why did you think we came out tonight? Because we all like classical music that much?”

Ienzo supposed that was fair. He hadn’t been listening to the conversation that lead them here. In fact, he couldn’t even recall that the idea of going to the symphony was floated at all. He probably wouldn’t even be here now if Even and his crew hadn’t reminded him on their way out of the lab earlier that evening.

For all the hours that they spent together in the lab, the researchers of the Ansem lab still chose to spend their leisure time together a few nights a week. Weekly trivia was Tuesday night, Fridays were TGIF happy hour, and weekends were for talking about work with while shouting to be heard over some sporting event played (and was ignored) in the background. There were the occasional other outings for birthdays or milestones, but Ienzo couldn’t think of a time that they’d gone to any sort of event for the arts. It didn’t really seem like the their usual fare.

He must have been lost in the thought, because the audience suddenly stood as a line of black-clad musicians entered the stage from both wings, moving purposefully to their seats. Instruments were gathered with a comfortable ease that seemed as familiar and practiced as an athlete stretching their limbs. Ienzo spied Lea cracking his neck from the percussion section, his red hair shockingly bright against all of the matte black. 

Ienzo did not have much experience with music and thus lacked the ability to truly appreciate the music, but he found the movements passed faster than he had anticipated. He was grateful that The Planets drew on astronomy and legends of the Roman gods; it gave him a touch of anchoring perspective in what would otherwise be an overwhelming wash of music. 

The black attire was meant to make the performers disappear against the black background of the stage curtain, but one musician’s constant motion drew Ienzo’s eye throughout the movements: one of the two harpists, a spindly blonde man, leaned into and swayed with the music, his eyes closed. His fingers seemed strong and sure despite his apparent rapture by the music. Many of the musicians looked like they were a part of the music; the harpist seemed to be swallowed in it.

He found himself startled by the applause that marked the end of the seven movements. The audience rose to their feet to applaud, and Ienzo joined them after a moment of confused stillness.

The time had flown by. He must have been watching the harpist longer than he’d thought. He had a tendency to lose track of time that way — he’d find a focal point and a thought train would steer him away from reality until something jarred him back to awareness.

The group gathered in the lobby and waited for Lea to join them. It took a few minutes longer than expected; he supposed the conductor must have taken a moment to speak to the orchestra after they had regrouped offstage. 

“Would you look at that? It’s a bunch of nerds outside of their natural habitat.” Lea greeted them in his normal, teasing way, hands shoved into the back pocket of his black jeans, which were ripped and torn starting at the knee. Ienzo found himself wondering if Lea had managed to pass his typical leisurewear for concert attire.

Even scoffed. “Nice, coming from our resident porcupine.”

Lea smirked. “You nerds heading back to your pen?”

“Not quite. I thought we might ask you what your plans were for the evening. I imagine you aren’t planning on stopping back by the lab tonight.”

“Of course not! I can’t believe you’d even think I would consider it!” Lea feigned an offended expression, hand pressed against his chest in mock disbelief. His flair for the dramatic was out in full force today, it seemed. 

“So what are you doing?” Aeleus asked. Ienzo was surprised to hear Aeleus clued into the conversation. 

“A few of us are headed to Everybody’s for a beer. You guys can come if you want. It’ll mostly be members of the orchestra and their friends.”

Ienzo was itching to get back to the lab. He’d been gone too long already. There was prep work to be done, notes to write up, instruments to clean…

“What about you, Ienzo?” Even asked. 

Ienzo hadn’t even been aware that his attention had lapsed. He blinked, confused. His to-do list nagged at the back of his mind. He was still in a kind of fugue state from the concert. He was surprised to find his head already bobbing in agreement. 

 

Everybody’s was a short walk through campus, in the so-called village that abutted the overly-pretentious front gate of the university. The squat brick façade was surrounded by terraced outdoor seating areas, already dense with the post-concert crowd. 

Lea pushed his way through the crowd, pausing occasionally to shout greetings or fist bump people as he passed. It seemed like he knew everyone, which didn’t surprise Ienzo in the least. Lea wasn’t known for his commitment to scholarly work. Ienzo suspected that he only stayed on as a lab tech because of the sweatpants and loose standards of presentability, but it was no one would mention it to him for fear of drawing his infamous temper. He was, at the very least, a constant presence around campus. 

He led them at last to a cluster of sour-looking people gathered around a nearly full pitcher of beer. One of them, a man with shockingly blue hair, turned to watch them approach. He was already frowning. 

“Sup, assholes!” Lea called, shoving his hands into the back of his jeans with a lazy air. It seemed to further aggravate the blue-haired man, whose frown seemed— impossibly— to deepen further. 

“Oh, so you finally decided to show up.” He growled, arms crossed against his chest. 

“Yeah, jackass,” said a blonde girl to Lea’s left. Her voice was every bit as severe as she looked. Ienzo felt strangely cowed by her presence, though he couldn’t figure out why. “You left us with your grumpy-ass boyfriend. Totally ruined my evening. Thanks for that.”

Lea shrugged and sidled over to the blue-haired man, looping an arm over his shoulders. “Isa, Isa,” he said before pressing his mouth too close to Isa’s ear for Ienzo to discern the rest of the conversation. 

Ienzo sighed and poured himself a drink as the others chatted about their respective areas of study. It seemed that most of the gathering were also grad students, brought together from their disparate areas of study by Lea. It seemed there was no limit to his ability to find people and draw them together. Ienzo couldn’t help but be impressed.

The rest of the group slowly drifted away to other conversations, leaving Ienzo with the half-full pitcher of beer. He resisted for a while, but he found himself becoming anxious the longer he sat alone, surrounded by the incessant chattering of the strangers around him. 

At last he poured a glass of beer and stared pointedly at the brass accents on the bar has poured glass, then another, then a third. The cacophony around him seemed to dull to a ceaseless buzz.

How long had he been sitting and staring into nothing this time? He had to get back to the lab, he had prep to do, he hadn’t typed up his notes, that lesson plan wasn’t even started, he— 

“You got any of that to spare?”

Ienzo whipped around to see a lanky blonde man in a black sweater, his hair an unruly mohawk. He stood with the lazy confidence of someone who was very much in his element. 

The harpist from the concert, Ienzo realized. He’d managed to grab a bright blue backpack to sing over his shoulder, but he hadn’t changed out of his concert attire. 

“Uh…” Ienzo began, half turning back to the pitcher on the bar in front of him. His voice sounded strange on his ears. “I, um…”

“Cool.” The harpist cut him off and reached across Ienzo’s chest for the pitcher and an empty grass, pouring what was left of the lukewarm beer and taking a large drink. He seemed way too close when he pushed his way into the space next to Ienzo. 

“I haven’t seen you around before.” He said after another large gulp of beer. His face didn’t even react to the taste despite its warmth. “I’m Myde.”

“Ienzo.” He supplied after a pause. He was making it harder and harder to pass as sober. The space behind Myde faded away too quickly, leaving only the blonde harpist and his glass of tepid beer. 

“Oh shit, did you come here with Lea? Your name totally sounds familiar.”

Lea. Lea! Yes, he had come with Lea. He bobbed his head and the room started spinning.

Had it really only been three drinks? He wasn’t sure anymore.

He nearly jumped when he felt something warm connect with his shoulder. A hand. Long, slender fingers. Skin that looked gently sun-kissed, like someone who had spent the summer outside but had been forced back inside by the start of fall semester.

“Hey, you okay?” Myde asked, his voice suddenly shifting from his carefree attitude to something that sounded more concerned. Ienzo felt a pang of embarrassment. He must have been staring again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

Myde shrugged, a smile forming on his face. He had such a nice smile. It was equal parts friendly and mischievous, like he was sharing a secret.

“Hey, no sweat. I have a tendency to leave guys like you speechless.”

“Wha— I— I didn’t —” Ienzo stammered. He reached for words, but language was failing him at the moment. His cheeks felt hot; he was sure he was blushing furiously. Finding nothing to say, he nervously glanced away to the panel of windows. It had started to rain, and the crowd that had previously packed the patio had dissipated or fled inside. 

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Myde asked after a few moments of quiet silence, turning his gaze to the window as well. Ienzo was glad to no longer have Myde’s eyes on him. He had felt them burning into him, making him even more self-conscious than usual.

Ienzo hadn’t realized how long he had been staring at the rain. There he was, zoning out again. “Yeah.”

“Want to go stand in it?”

Ienzo pulled his attention from the window. His attention and ability to focus lagged behind the movement of his eyes. He did not particularly want to get wet, but the idea sounded awfully spontaneous and exciting.

And some part of the back of his brain begged him to follow Myde, to see that pretty face turned towards the sky.

“Okay.” He agreed. The words sounded like they came from someone else.

“Nice!” Myde grabbed Ienzo’s hand and jerked him towards the door. Ienzo glanced back at the abandoned space at the bar, Myde’s forgotten backpack on the floor, the empty pitcher. Even, Aeleus, and the rest of the Ansem lab crew had long since vanished into the crowd. The reasonable part of Ienzo’s brain— quiet as it was — nagged that he should find them, should return to the lab to prep his experiments, to catch up on the seemingly endless backlog of work that stood between him and any earned relaxation.

They pushed through the door and onto the patio, Ienzo stumbling over the threshold of the door. The rain was coming down in a steady stream, drenching the brick of the patio and pooling into puddles.

It wasn’t the sort of thing that Ienzo usually noticed. Usually rain was just rain. But suddenly it seemed beautiful, extraordinary, lovely. He turned his face to the sky, enjoying the cold sting on his face.

Myde was laughing beside him, the type of laugh Ienzo thought reserved for children. He was every bit as lovely as Ienzo had suspected he would be, all smiles and blue eyes, his mohawk falling around his face.

Ienzo smiled. Spontaneity was not usually his forte, but this...this was fun.

“Hey!” Even’s stern voice called from the door. Ienzo’s mood crashed immediately. He glanced at Myde, who had also turned to the door. He looked as nervous as Ienzo felt.

“What the hell are you doing? Get in here!”

Ienzo’s feet felt like lead as he made his way back inside. He was soaked, his clothes dripping on the floor. The air inside was warmer than the cold and rain of the patio, but it felt like it couldn’t reach through the chill in his skin. Myde slipped past him and retreated to the bar, probably to grab his backpack and scoot away from whatever lecture awaited Ienzo. Ienzo couldn’t blame him.

“I don’t what the hell you were thinking,” Even hissed, glaring at Ienzo and the puddle pooling at his feet. “I thought you were above acting like a child. How many drinks have you had, anyway? It’s a Tuesday night!”

Ienzo didn’t know the answer to that question. He stayed silent and stared pointedly at the floor. A thousand excuses flooded his mind, each as useless as the last. _You’re the one who made me come out. You guys abandoned me. You know I don’t like social situations. You know I’m younger than you guys._

“You need to go home.” Even commanded. “And get your shit together. If you are even a minute late tomorrow, I’m telling Ansem. You’re an adult now; you need to start acting like it.”

Even watched him until the cab pulled away from the curb, but Ienzo felt the sting of his glare long after peeling off his soaked clothes and stumbling into bed, safe at last from spinning rooms and angry voices.

 

That night, amid his usual fare, Ienzo dreamed of graceful fingers on strings, a cheek pressed against an instrument, the sound of a gentle melody. 

He woke with music still drifting through his mind.


End file.
